From keening to quiet acceptance, cultural reactions to death vary greatly

Jamal Abodalo was working as an engineer on an oil platform in the Persian Gulf during the Iraq-Iran war of the 1980s when a stray missile struck, killing nearly 20 of his crew members.

As he personally notified the families of each of the deceased, he experienced firsthand the cultural differences in how people respond to death.

"These people were from all parts of the world," Abodalo said. "I called their family members in India, the United Kingdom, Pakistan, Indonesia, the United States. How different is the world, and the way we grieve."

Middle Eastern and Southeast Asian families were very sad when presented with the news that a loved one had died, Abodalo said, but accepting, asking few questions regarding the circumstances.

Western family members became distraught, demanding details and accountability.

The distinct differences in the reactions, said Abodalo, who moved to the United States from Kuwait more than 20 years ago and is currently director of engineering, planning and codes for Muhlenberg Township, reflect varied cultural views regarding death and grief.

"To understand death, you probably have to understand something even more fundamental - birth," he said. "We in the United States really don't understand death, and we refuse to accept it."

Abodalo was one of four panelists who participated in the 10th annual conference of the Circle of Life Coalition, held Nov. 5 at the Bernardine Franciscan Conference Center, Alvernia University. A nonprofit organization of health care providers and others, the coalition is dedicated to educating the public about end of life matters and concerns.

Other panel members - Cathie S. Davidavage, a bereavement counselor for PinnacleHealth Hospice; Dr. Pamela Taffera, associate director of the family practice residency program at St. Joseph Medical Center; and Dr. Timothy E. Ring, a Wyomissing psychologist - also observed the differences in how people of various cultures view and respond to death.

All agreed however, that there is commonality in grief over the loss of loved ones.

"People do grieve differently, but we all grieve," said Ring, who has traveled to many disaster areas to assist those dealing with grief and loss. "There's no right way or wrong way; it's just different."

Ring told the story of a man he met in Thailand, where he had gone to volunteer his services following the great tsunami of December 2004. The man, he said, had lost his wife and seven of his children, along with his home and everything he owned.

When Ring approached the man, who was sitting by himself smoking a cigarette, and asked him how he was doing, the man smiled at him and said he was okay. Then the man gestured toward a boy playing nearby in the sand. It was his only remaining son, who had not been home at the time the ocean took the rest of his family.

"That is my reason for living," the man told Ring, who expressed amazement at the calm and strength exhibited, but said he has seen that spirit of resilience around the world.

"The strength of the human spirit is unbelievable, and I've seen it all over the world," Ring said.

Taffera recounted her experience of caring for 29 children who had been badly injured in the Haitian earthquake earlier this year, and how it changed her perception of grieving.

"I cared for 29 children," Taffera said. "Most of them were amputees, some were multiple amputees. Some were septic. Many were dying in front of me."

She related how she was profoundly affected by the reaction of a mother whose young son had just died, who demonstrated the practice of keening.

"The mom started to keen and scream and pray and run and thump and hit," Taffera said. "It was continuous and loud, and terribly disturbing. I had 28 other children who needed my attention, but I just didn't know what to do."

The mother's keening went on for four hours, Taffera said, but sometimes can last for days. Although she was very bothered by the act, she came to realize that it was simply an expression of grief she had not encountered previously.

"What the culture needed to teach me was that this was not an inappropriate reaction," she said.

Davidavage, who is co-director of Camp Dragonfly, a weekend bereavement program for children who have lost a parent or other loved one, spoke of the cultural differences present in camp participants, but how they are united in grief and loss. That unity, she said, allows them to help one another begin to heal.

In addition to the panel discussion, the conference, held at the Bernardine Franciscan Conference Center in Reading, included talks by Leslie Delp, the founder of Olivia's House, a York-based grief and loss center for children, and Dr. James R. Huber, a Wyomissing psychologist, counselor and teacher.

The purpose of the annual conference, according to Gary R. Hawkins, chairperson of the Circle of Life, is for professionals involved in health care, end-of-life care and grief services to be able to educate and support one another.

"The Circle of Life Coalition came into existence because of the need in our community for education, information and referral regarding end of life," Hawkins said. "There are so many resources available to help families as they travel on this journey, but many families struggle because they don't know what help is available. The coalition is dedicated to educating the community about these services."